I Won't Even Wish For Snow
by Gamma Orionis
Summary: If the world were fair, everyone would spend Christmas with the person they loved most. But the world isn't fair. Drabble collection for the Pseudo-Advent Calendar Festlest on hp-unfaithful on LiveJournal. Part 6: Bellatrix/Andromeda
1. The Wrong Gift

Author's Notes: Drabble/ficlet collection for the Pseudo-Advent Calender Festlest on hp_unfaithful on LiveJournal. All stories will feature some form of infidelity, and if all goes well, a new drabble will be posted daily throughout December.

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_Narcissa/Rodolphus – The Wrong Gift  
Word Count: 150_

)O(

Narcissa disliked buying presents for Lucius.

He was difficult to please. For years, she had tried to pick out Christmas gifts that would make him smile, and for years, she had failed. A simple gift showed she didn't care. An expensive gift was her trying to buy his affection. A gift he hadn't asked for was always wrong. A gift he had asked for only proved how hopeless she was.

Oh, he wouldn't _say_ so. He would always give her a little _you tried_ smile and pat her on the shoulder and say that the only thing he needed for Christmas was her, but she could see scorn in his eyes, and he would talk behind her back about how little she understood him.

So Narcissa gave up.

Rodolphus Lestrange was easier to please.

Unlike Lucius, he _meant it_ when he said that all he wanted for Christmas was her.


	2. Some Family's Values

_Rodolphus/Rabastan – Some Family's Values  
Word Count: 200_

)O(

Bellatrix didn't know about Rabastan.

Sometimes, Rodolphus thought that she _must_ suspect, simply because he couldn't believe that anyone could look at him and Rabastan and not be able to see how they felt for each other. He could not so much as look at his brother without pangs of desire twisting his chest, and he was _sure_ that what he felt so strongly _must_ be visible. How could Bellatrix _possibly_ see Rodolphus and Rabastan together and mistake their intimacy for nothing more than innocent and brotherly love? Rodolphus, when he was with Rabastan, found himself examining both himself and his brother with Bellatrix's eyes. He evaluated the way they sat (so close, so intimate), the way they looked at each other (longing, caring, love), the way they touched each other (_often_), and trying to understand how she could miss the desire that seemed so obvious between them?

And yet, she did.

Or if she did not, if she did suspect that there was something amiss in the closeness between them, if she did suspect that her husband was unfaithful, if she did suspect that his brother was more welcome in his bed than she…

She hid it very well.

* * *

This drabble was inspired by the painting "Some Family's Values" by Steve Walker, visible here: stevewalkerartist**DOT**com/gallerysomefamilysvalues**DOT**html


	3. Condoms

_Andromeda/Ted – Condoms  
Word Count: 200_

)O(

Andromeda had Ted pressed up against the wall, kissing him, and he was having a very difficult time deciding whether he liked it or not.

On the one hand, she was a _very_ good kisser.

On the other hand, he was sure that if Rabastan Lestrange ever found out about this, Ted would never kiss a girl again.

"Andi, stop…" he murmured. "You have a boyfri–"

Andromeda's tongue slid between his lips, then she pulled back, shaking her head.

"Rabastan doesn't have to know." Her hand pressed against his crotch and he could already feel himself swelling. "I want you…"

"What if you get pregnant?"

Andromeda didn't move her hand, but she did raise one eyebrow. "Pregnant? Don't you have one of those things?"

"What things?" Ted asked blankly.

Andromeda looked at him like he was an idiot. "You know. Those things. Those Muggle things. Those bits of rubber that you put over your cock to stop me from getting pregnant."

"Oh!" Ted's face burned and he grabbed his school bag, digging into it. "Those things. They're called condoms – and yes," he added, taking a packet from his bag and letting Andromeda pull him close again, "I have them."


	4. The Yule Ball

_Draco/Luna – The Yule Ball  
Word Count: 300_

)O(

Draco considered it lucky that Pansy had friends to talk to at the Yule Ball.

He had been happy enough to go with her, but dealing with Pansy was frankly tiring, and he was profoundly grateful that she didn't care too much about the ball.

She and Draco had danced a bit, and then she went off with her friends – with his encouragement, of course – and left him alone. He took a minute to watch Pansy and Daphne dancing together, all giggles, then slipped out of the Great Hall.

It was pleasantly quiet out there.

He leaned against the wall, wiping a little sweat from his forehead (he hadn't realized how hot the Great Hall had been) and then he heard a footstep.

He turned and looked and saw a small, pale girl looking at him wistfully.

"Who are you?" he demanded, narrowing his eyes at her. He didn't like being watched, and though he was quite sure that he had seen her before, she wasn't someone who he knew well enough to justify her looking at him.

"Luna Lovegood," she said. "Did you come from the ball?"

"Yes," he told her shortly.

"I thought so," she sighed. "You look lovely. No one asked me to the ball. Are you with someone?"

"My girlfriend, yeah."

"Oh dear." Her face fell. "Your girlfriend… I had hoped you didn't have one."

"Why?"

"I'd hoped you might dance with me," she sighed. "Oh well–"

"She wouldn't mind," Draco interrupted. He didn't know what possessed him to say it, but he did, and Luna's eyes lit up.

He glanced around and prayed that no one would see him dancing with the crazy girl, but he took her hands and swayed with her to the melody of the music wafting out of the hall.


	5. Evening Lounge

_Druella/Abraxas – Evening Lounge  
Word Count: 400_

)O(

"Here all alone, Druella?"

Druella was sitting in the lounge of the Lestrange's manor. She had slipped away from the Christmas party that they were holding and made her way to the lounge, which was luxurious and a wonderful place to sit, but more importantly, was quiet and allowed her a chance for solitude. Her husband was happy to talk to the guests, but she – on that night, at least – preferred to be alone.

At least, she preferred to be alone until Abraxas Malfoy stepped inside.

She looked at him, her heart beating faster than usual already. He looked as bored with the party as she felt. He was holding a lit cigar between his fingers, and he tapped it lightly, sprinkling ash onto the floor.

"Yes," she said, barely able to tear her eyes away from him. She focussed on the champagne glass she was holding – her hands had begun to shake, and she gripped the stem tightly. She could nearly feel his eyes drilling into her.

"Isn't your husband here?"

"He's out at the party." Druella was finding it very difficult to speak above a whisper.

"Good." He stepped towards her, setting the cigar down on the bar that ran along the side of the lounge, then grasped Druella by her wrist. He pulled her to her feet, pressed her against him. The champagne glass slipped from her fingers and smashed upon the floor, but Druella hardly noticed.

Abraxas's lips slipped across her throat, warm and firm and tantalizing, and a moan escaped Druella's lips. His hand was upon her breast, his fingers slipping beneath the clinging black fabric of her dress.

"Oh… _Abraxas, no_," she whispered, but her voice was thick with desire and in her mind, she was repeating, over and over, _no, don't stop, don't stop, don't._

"But, Dru…" His voice caught a little and he glanced up at her, eyes hazy and lustful. "Don't you want me?"

_More than anything_.

"Let me…" He pressed her back against the bar and she found herself rising up onto it, looping her legs around his waist without even being aware of it. He tangled his fingers in her sleek hair and pulled her head gently to the side so that he could press kisses to her neck.

_Don't_, a voice whispered in Druella's mind. _Don't give into him. Don't give in to _this.

Of course, she did.

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Author's Notes: This drabble was inspired by the paintings "Cigar Bar" and "Evening Lounge" by Brent Lynch, visible at:

cache2**DOT**artprintimages**DOT**com/p/LRG/15/1576/AOMDD00Z/art-print/brent-lynch-cigar-bar**DOT**jpg

cache2**DOT**artprintimages**DOT**com/p/LRG/15/1576/ZOMDD00Z/art-print/brent-lynch-evening-lounge**DOT**jpg


	6. Dirty, Dirty Love

_Bellatrix/Andromeda – Dirty, Dirty Love  
Word Count: 100_

)O(

Bellatrix sat on the bed she had shared with Andromeda and tried not to look at her little sister. Andromeda looked was curled up on the bed. She had her fingers in her mouth and she sucked them gently, almost idly, as she looked up at Bellatrix.

"That was _bad_, Bella," she whispered, her voice low, conspiratorial and sexy enough to rekindle the ache between Bellatrix's thighs.

"So bad…" she breathed. "Rodolphus and Rabastan will be furious…"

Andromeda put one hand on her own breast, squeezing it slightly. "But it was worth it, don't you think, Bella?"

"Completely worth it."

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Author's Notes: This drabble was inspired by a painting by Reuben Negron, viewable here: reubennegron**DOT**com/dirtydirtylove**DOT**html


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